


star, wind / sunshine, love

by paracyane



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU in which tomas speaks japanese, Drinking, Getting Together, M/M, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:08:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24655849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paracyane/pseuds/paracyane
Summary: The learned language of Adriah Tomas.Looking up at him now, Shion wonders: when had it become so terrifyingly obvious, that a very large Adriah could not possibly fit into the crevices of Shion’s profoundly normal sized heart?
Relationships: Inunaki Shion/Adriah Thomas
Comments: 24
Kudos: 139





	star, wind / sunshine, love

**Author's Note:**

> title from 김종국's song of the same name.

//

They end their victory-filled season with a loss, in the final game of the Kurowashiki. Ushijima Wakatoshi scores the match point; Hinata dives and barely gets a hand on it, and Shion fails to follow up by a hair’s width. They collectively watch the interviews the winners give afterwards, on Bokuto’s tablet during their ride back. _It wouldn’t have felt right to end the season otherwise_ , Hirugami Fukuro says, clapping a hand each on Kageyama and Ushijima’s shoulders. _After all, the Adlers will be very different come next season._

Hinata is upset later that day, after they’ve finished their debrief, and there’s only a few of them left in the gym. He’s sitting in the corner, a volleyball trapped between his knees and his chest.

“Let him be,” Meian suggests, when he sees Shion about to do something about it. “I’d be sad too, if I lost to my best friend in his last game in this country.”

“Didn’t Shouyou spend two years in Brazil?” Adriah asks, after he squeezes whatever was left in his water bottle into his mouth. “It’s not like he’s never been out of Japan before.”

Shion shrugs. “Kageyama will be back in Japan at least once a year, anyway. Coach Hibarida wouldn’t keep him off the roster.”

“Have neither of you ever had a best friend?” Meian huffs, annoyed. “Both of you are so heartless.”

“Captain, I thought you were my best friend?” Shion asks, as the remaining people are slowly starting to disband for the night. “Or is that only when I’m buying drinks? And when Hirugami-san isn’t around?”

Meian opens his mouth to retort, but one of Sakusa’s serves goes wide, and almost caves in Adriah’s face. Shion would feel bad, but the first thing Adriah does is ask Sakusa for more of those sheet masks that he likes as if that’s an acceptable form of apology.

At this point, Hinata is on his feet again and wastes no time before practically begging Sakusa to practice with him, despite the fact that they both played five sets earlier.

“I have to practice my serves,” Sakusa says, as he and Hinata are picking up the balls. “At Kurowashiki I had too many serve-misses.”

“How many did he miss?” Shion asks Meian, who is rummaging through his bag to look for extra knee pads.

“I think five? Or six.”

Shion looks over to where Hinata and Adriah are competing to see who can hold the most volleyballs in his arms at once. He tries not to feel too fond, but it’s a lost cause. “I guess that’s a lot for him. For Captain, only missing five serves would be a miracle.”

“Hey— That’s _not true_ —”

“Can someone jump some blocks?” Shion interrupts, raising his voice so everyone can hear. “I want to practice digs.”

“Wait, I said was practicing serves—”

“Omi-kun not wanting to hit my sets really breaks my heart,” Miya announces. He’s so loud, Shion could probably have heard him even if he had been far away in the parking lot with all the doors of his car closed. “What will I do to heal myself?”

“I want to go home,” Sakusa says, but Adriah and Hinata have finished picking up all the balls and are now wheeling the cart over. “I want to go home now.”

“Then leave,” Shion says, and watches Sakusa’s face settle back into his usual annoyance. He doesn’t leave. Instead, he takes his place next to Shion on the other side of the court. Adriah blocks first, while Meian flips through the scorebook to check how many serves they had each missed during Kurowashiki.

“Inunaki-san gets a lot when Tomas is blocking,” Sakusa observes, after a particularly hard one from Bokuto that was only partially deflected off the tips of Adriah’s fingers.

“Hmm.” Shion wipes the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, as the ball hits the ground where Miya prefers the first touch to land. “I think that’s because I’m used to the way Adriah blocks.”

Meian joins in then, and they continue like that for twenty more spikes. Bokuto would probably go all night if there wasn’t someone stopping him. It’s usually Meian taking on that responsibility, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in fulfilling that role right now.

Hinata switches with Sakusa after they take a quick break. Adriah leaves to fill his water bottle, so it’s Meian jumping a lone block. Sakusa feints, and Shion makes a mental note to himself to switch out his favorite onigiri the next time he has a chance. He dives for it, but doesn’t reach in time.

“It is a good feeling,” Sakusa remarks, as Shion glares up at him. “I can see the appeal.”

“You have no appeal,” Shion tells him, which is blatantly disregarded.

It’s not just Sakusa’s feint. Shion is having trouble following up when Meian’s back is to him. He’d first noticed early last season, but figured it was something that would resolve with practice. After all, he and Meian have been playing together for the longest in the current lineup: almost six years now. But it had slowly become more of a frequent thing that Shion would find that he couldn’t react to the path of the ball when Meian was in the front row.

There were at least a handful of spikes that Shion could probably have retrieved at the Kurowashiki that he didn’t. He has no idea how many there have been in the past two seasons.

Shion sighs, resisting the urge to slam his fist into the ground, after he misses another one.

“Inunaki-san got a lot more when Tomas was blocking,” Sakusa says, basically tattles, from the other side of the net. Shion can’t stand him sometimes.

“When I’m blocking?” Adriah asks. Shion starts, because he hadn’t noticed him coming back into the gym.

He’d first noticed this early last season, but how long has it truly been, since he realized that the first person he looks for when he walks into a room is Adriah? That he’s been watching Adriah for so long without thinking about it, that he can read even the smallest shifts in Adriah’s movements?

It’s better to not know. Shion doesn’t want to know.

“We should probably wrap things up,” he says, getting up. “We had a long game today. Off-season training’s starting in two days, so we should rest as much as possible before then.” He looks to Meian to support him.

“Wan-san’s right,” Hinata exclaims, instead of Meian. “I’m going to clean up as fast as possible!”

“It’s not a competition,” Shion tries to say, but Hinata has already roped Bokuto and Adriah into a race, so his attempt is futile. Miya chases after them, yelling something about _not fair_.

“Are you coming tomorrow night?” Meian asks, as they’re taking the net down. “Adlers are staying in town to join us, and some other guys too. Hinata asked about you earlier when you weren’t here.”

Shion racks his brain. Another after party. “I guess for a little bit, yeah. We didn’t really get a chance to thoroughly celebrate becoming V.League champions.” Adriah has picked up Hinata and is holding him out in front of himself like he’s a shield, against Bokuto. “Isn’t it at a nightclub?”

“I heard there might be some idols there,” Meian says, looking sideways at him.

“Captain’s just going to spend the entire time drinking and bickering with Hirugami-san anyway,” Shion says lightly, ducking away when Meian takes a half hearted swing at him. “But am I wrong?”

“It’s only because the idiot moved to Oita,” Meian grumbles. “There’s a lot to catch up on.”

“Ah,” Shion says. “That’s totally understandable.”

“Watch your tone, brat.”

“What tone?” Shion bats his lashes at him. Meian chokes on his water, doubling over and coughing. Before Shion can laugh too much, Hinata runs over, hiding behind him.

“Wan-san, please help me!” Hinata positions them so Shion is directly in front of him, his hands on Shion’s shoulders. “I’m not a human sacrifice!”

The only thing Shion can manage to say here is, “What?”

“Is Shion next?” Adriah asks, and without preamble, picks him up, his hands on either side of Shion’s ribs. “Atsumu won’t come after me if Shion is here.”

“I thought we were cleaning up,” Shion says dryly. He tries to swallow around the sound stuck to the inside of his mouth. “Please put me down.”

Adriah’s fingers shift before he sets him gently on the ground. “Sorry Shion, I thought you were joining the game.”

Shion puts a hand where Adriah’s had just been. He’s been picked up like that before, but it usually doesn’t hurt much. It doesn’t hurt now. It doesn’t. “No need to apologize.” He rearranges his shirt to how it had been post-pickup. “Let’s clean up.”

It doesn’t take them long once they actually put their minds to it, and Shion takes one last glance around the gym before flicking the lights off. When he turns around, Adriah is looking for him, his bag slung over his shoulder. _How long has it been, really?_ Adriah waits for Shion to get to him before turning to leave with him. Looking up at him now, Shion wonders: when had it become so terrifyingly obvious, that a very large Adriah could not possibly fit into the crevices of Shion’s profoundly normal sized heart?

//

Shion buys the first round almost immediately after everyone arrives. Miya shows up the latest, his shirt already untucked.

“You are such a disaster,” Sakusa says, taking a sip of whatever terrible concoction that he’s requested the poor bartender to make.

“Now, now, if Omi-kun doesn’t appreciate me, then who else would teach him the art of seduction?” Miya leans over, tipping Sakusa’s drink into his own mouth. His tongue darts out to catch what’s spilled over.

Meian stifles his laugh into his beer. Shion resists the urge to take a video as he watches Sakusa plainly deliberate if it’s worth it to dump the rest of the drink on Miya’s perfectly made up hair.

“For you?” the bartender asks.

Shion takes another look at Miya waving over a few girls to where he and Sakusa are sitting before he says, “Just water for me, thanks. I drove.”

It’s getting busy. Meian leaves to go argue with Hirugami, so Shion’s at the bar by himself, trying to decide how long he’s going to stay. When he turns to see how Miya and Sakusa are doing, he accidentally runs into someone behind him.

“I’m so sorry,” Shion says immediately, thankful that he hadn’t been holding his water. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” the guy says, and he seems to recognize Shion, going by the way his forehead just barely wrinkles. The two others he’s with seem to melt away into the club. “Are you by yourself?”

“I came with other people,” Shion says. He wonders whose acquaintance this is. Meian had said the guest list was relatively small, compared to other after parties that they’ve attended. “But I think I’ll turn in soon anyway.”

The guy laughs, leaning past Shion to order something that Shion can’t make out. “Anything for you?”

“Thanks,” Shion says. “But I’m good.” He picks up his water and takes a sip.

“Too bad you’re leaving,” he says, tapping his nail on the bottle the bartender had just given him. “It’s a bit early, isn’t it?”

Shion opens his mouth to answer, but out of the corner of his eye he thinks he sees Adriah leaning over, his lips brushing against the ear of whoever is next to him. The room lurches. He feels sick.

“Excuse me a minute, please,” Shion mutters. He pushes past the crowd and heads straight for the bathroom. He splashes water on his face, pressing his palms into his cheeks to ground himself. He’s being ridiculous. His car keys are in the pocket of his jeans. All he has to do is go close and pay his tab, and then he can leave. He’s still not breathing normally as he takes out his handkerchief to dry the water off. It gets squeezed in his hands so he has something to hold on to, because he’d really rather not touch anything in here.

He’s still staring down at the sink when the door opens. Adriah walks in.

“Is Shion okay?”

Shion makes himself relax his fingers, folding the cloth in half twice. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

The door closes behind Adriah’s back. “Shion looks very pale.”

“Don’t—” Shion’s voice breaks, and he has to draw in a breath to steady it. “Don’t say my name like that.”

“Like what?”

Like you hold me dear, Shion thinks. But he couldn’t say that to Adriah’s face. “I’m going to head out soon,” he says. “Just need to close my tab.”

Adriah reaches out, pressing the back of his knuckles against Shion’s forehead, through his damp bangs. “Shion feels a little warm.”

For a second Shion is so shocked that he just lets Adriah do it. But then he flinches back, reflexively knocking Adriah’s hand away.

Adriah looks almost hurt when he does that. They stare at each other wordlessly for a few breaths before Shion’s brain resets. He takes Adriah’s hand in both of his own and says, “I’m so sorry, Adriah. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you.”

“Does Shion not like it when I touch him?” Adriah asks quietly. Shion almost doesn’t hear him over the music in the background.

No, that’s not it. I think I might die if you do. I don’t know what I’ll do sometimes, if you were to touch me.

He lets Adriah’s hand slip out of his grasp. “No, of course not,” he says, averting his gaze. “You just surprised me.” When he checks his watch, he sees that it’s barely half past ten. So it is quite early. “Enjoy the rest of your night, Adriah.”

“Can I come with you?” Adriah asks, as Shion is about to open the door.

He pauses, his hand still on the knob. “Why?”

“I want to go home with Shion.” The way he says it, he can’t possibly know what that implies.

At the same time, though, Shion doesn’t know how he should be taking it. So he says, “Do you want to watch the other semi-final match from Kurowashiki?”

“Huh,” Adriah says. “Okay.”

They go back out to the bar so Shion can pay his tab. Next to them, Hinata is showing Kageyama something on his phone, and whatever they’re discussing is drowned out by the noise around them. He’s as animated as ever, doing half of the talking with his hands as Kageyama leans in close so he can hear. The bartender slides back something extra with Shion’s credit card.

“This was left for you,” he says. Shion looks to see that it’s a business card, with a different name and number on the back of it. Whoever wrote it has impeccable handwriting.

“Thank you,” Shion says, stuffing it in his jacket pocket before closing his wallet.

When they’re in Shion’s car, Adriah stretches back luxuriously. He doesn’t even have to move the seat because Shion’s passenger seat is near-permanently adjusted for Adriah’s freakishly long legs.

“Are you going to call that number?” Adriah asks, as they’re getting on the main road.

“Which number?”

“Either of them.” When Shion looks over, Adriah smiles at him. The same as usual.

He grips the steering wheel with more force than he should. “Why, are you jealous?”

“Yes.”

Shion is effectively rendered speechless, and he’s grateful that the streets are relatively clear. Maybe the music had been too loud. Can too-loud music dull his reflexes like this?

“If Shion is dating someone, then there won’t be any room in Shion’s life for me,” Adriah adds.

“That’s… not true at all, Adriah.”

“So are you going to call?” Adriah is so persistent. That’s probably at least a quarter of why he’s such a good volleyball player.

Shion still doesn’t know how he should be reacting to the expression on Adriah’s face right now. At the next red light, Shion fishes the card out of his jacket, and rips it half, and then into fourths. He drops the pieces into the trash compartment of his car. “No,” he says. “I’m not going to call.”

Adriah sits back, looking pleased. Shion doesn’t want to deliberate about it any longer, so he’s glad that it’s only about a minute later that they arrive at Adriah’s building.

“I have the match on a flashdrive,” Adriah says, as they’re entering the apartment. He sets up the TV, alternating between humming to himself and complaining that it’s too cold to be May.

“It’s not that cold,” Shion says, throwing a blanket over him when Adriah sits down on the couch.

“It is,” Adriah protests, and he keeps at it for so long that Shion finally fits himself between Adriah’s legs, his back against Adriah’s chest. With the blanket almost to Shion’s chin, it’s plenty warm.

“Shion is so nice!” Adriah says happily, his cheek on top of Shion’s head.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Shion says. “You sure are bratty.”

Adriah immediately makes himself comfortable, his arms wrapping around Shion and squeezing him further against his chest. “Shion is so cute.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Adriah turns his face so his lips are in Shion’s hair. He seems to be thinking, so Shion watches Komori Motoya on the screen dig up a spike that Shion isn’t sure he could have gotten himself, before Adriah says, “Shion is so… pretty.”

“That’s not how you’re supposed to use that word, Adriah.”

Still, Adriah seems satisfied with himself. Shion must be tired, because they’re barely through the first set before he starts nodding off. He jerks himself awake the first few times, but the next time he opens his eyes, he’s on top of Adriah, who is sound asleep. They’d accidentally left the curtains open, and Adriah’s windows face East, so it was the light that woke him.

Shion knows he should wake him up. But it’s their last day off before they’re back to practice, so he decides not to. He puts his head on Adriah’s chest where it must have been all night, and is very careful not to move. It can’t be indulgent if he’s doing it for Adriah and not himself, right?

He stares at the back of his lids, drifting in and out of sleep, until Adriah begins to stir. He feigns unconsciousness as Adriah gently disentangles himself, as nimbly as two hundred and one centimeters can get. He must still be dreaming, because Adriah’s hand lingers on Shion’s shoulder, the tip of his finger caressing the curve of Shion’s cheek before he moves away.

//

While Adriah is in the shower, Shion takes it upon himself to straighten out the couch, folding the many, many throw blankets that Adriah keeps draped all over the place. Shion has no idea how they’re even supposed to be organized, so he settles for piling them all on one cushion in a tall stack.

“Shion sleeps like a puppy,” Adriah says cheerfully, a towel around his neck when he comes out of his room. “I had a dog growing up who would sleep on my chest at night.”

“That sounds more like a cat.”

“But Shion is a dog?”

“No—” Shion sighs. “Adriah, I am not a dog. You’ve been talking to Hinata and Bokuto too much.”

“Shion is cute like a dog,” Adriah amends, and Shion excuses himself to go freshen up before he dies of shame in front of Adriah.

He keeps a spare change of clothes here for whenever they’re going over game data late at night, so he’s relieved to find them where he’s always left them, in the second drawer of Adriah’s dresser. When he comes back out, Adriah has made coffee. Not well, but it’s definitely supposed to be coffee.

“Do you… have milk?” Shion asks, as Adriah pours him a mug.

Adriah hands him the milk, and Shion appraises the coffee nervously before he pours some milk in. When he takes a sip, he’s pleasantly surprised at the taste.

“Did Shion think it was going to be bad?” Shion almost drops the mug in his haste to look up at Adriah.

“No,” he lies.

Adriah laughs, holding his own mug between his hands. “Shion is a bad liar.”

Shion can’t argue with that, so he sits at the table as Adriah makes toast, which is the only other food he has in his apartment. In his defense, Shion isn’t sure he has much more in his own kitchen, because the end of the season is always the busiest.

“Why don’t we ever go out together anymore?” Adriah asks, as Shion rinses his plate and mug. He’s talking about before either of them really made a name for themselves, when they would walk around the shopping districts at night and eat street food, somewhat in moderation. Adriah always liked buying cute key charms to send back to his friends at home, and for himself too. There are at least four clustered around Adriah’s keys now.

“I don’t know,” Shion admits. “I guess I did that when I thought you felt homesick or lonely.”

“I’m always homesick.”

Shion dries his hands, carefully rearranging the towel when he’s done. “Not lonely?”

“Shion is here,” Adriah says, like that’s enough.

Is that enough? Shion has never thought about that before. Whenever Shion had a bad game or a bad day, Adriah would be there if Shion wanted him there. Was it more often than not? Did it make up the majority? Shion has never counted the numbers of those days but it feels like maybe he should have. Would it even make a difference if he was the kind of person who kept track of things like that?

Who’s to say, with how much is lost in translation between them?

“It’s our last day off,” Shion says, after he cannot possibly straighten the towel any longer. “Do you want to go on a run? We haven’t been to Yodogawa in a while.”

“I want to go to the beach,” Adriah says.

“The beach?” Shion repeats. “Isn’t it a bit early to go to the beach?”

“I don’t want to go in the water,” Adriah says. “I can’t swim.”

Shion can’t help but laugh. “Does it matter, when you’re that tall?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“Don’t be mean, Shion,” Adriah says. When Shion comes back to the table, Adriah flicks him on the forehead. “I just want to go to the beach.”

There are definitely multiple beaches within a few hours of here. If all else fails, there was always Lake Biwa. Shion pulls out his phone, and a few well-placed searches tell him that there’s a nice one a little under an hour away.

“Do you want to go?” Shion asks, sliding his phone over so Adriah can see the screen. “I can drive.”

“Shion is the best!” Adriah lights up, squeezing Shion’s hand before going to change into something that isn’t sweatpants. Shion smiles at his retreating back, so he won’t make the face that would give it all away.

Adriah is in charge of music on the drive down. He plays a strange myriad of whatever he has saved, and sings along to at least half of the songs.

“This one is so good,” Adriah says, reaching over to turn the volume up. “They played this when I was in high school, at a school dance. It was my class song.”

“School dance?” Shion asks.

“Like a festival,” Adriah explains. “But the dress code was black tie. There were slow dances and things like that.”

Adriah in a tux. Shion himself has only seen that a few times in the four-ish years that they’ve been teammates. Every time, it’s been at events where they were expected to mingle, and their coach had always hired Adriah a translator until he could hold his own. So it’s not like Shion got to spend time with him.

Adriah hums along, singing only at specific parts. It’s nice. Shion relaxes as they’re traveling on the expressway, wondering if it’s selfish of him to know that nothing could ever replace the empty ache that comes with longing, and to charge in head-first anyway.

//

It’s colder than Shion expected when they arrive. Maybe Adriah is right, and this year’s May is unreasonably cold. He checks his backseat to find a hoodie of unknown origin, so he pulls it over his head, rolling the sleeves up so they don’t cover his hands. There’s a baseball cap too, so he fits that over his hair.

“The air feels so clean,” Adriah says, as he’s stretching his arms over his head. He tilts his head back, watching the clouds. They’re moving, and briskly at that. Shion shivers as the wind hits them. “Sometimes I forget that not everything smells like sweat and salonpas.”

“That’s going to be our lives again starting tomorrow,” Shion reminds him, shutting the back door. “Want to go closer?”

“Will Shion mind if sand gets in his car?”

Shion pauses, adjusting his hat. That was such a considerate thing to ask. Thinking that probably means that Shion has been spending too much time with people who lack self-awareness more often than not. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll ask Sakusa if I can borrow his vacuum if it’s really that bad.”

“I don’t think he’ll let you borrow it,” Adriah says, as they make their way to the sand. There are a few people here and there, but in general no one is coming to the beach at this time of year.

Shion waits as Adriah snaps a few pictures of the horizon. “You don’t know how persuasive I can be.”

“I do know.” Adriah flips through the pictures. They must not be good enough, because he takes a few more. “Shion is very persuasive when he wants to be.”

“When I want to be,” Shion echos, and kicks at a rock next to his foot. It skids to a stop not one meter away, with all the resistance that the sand provides.

“Shion,” Adriah says.

Shion looks at him, confused, when Adriah leans down so their faces are next to each other. He realizes too late Adriah is going for a selfie, when he throws up a peace sign. Shion barely has time to look at the camera before Adriah takes it. Adriah has a huge grin on his face, and Shion just looks bewildered.

“I don’t like that one,” Shion says immediately, grabbing for Adriah’s phone. Adriah holds it so high that Shion cannot possibly reach it, because he’s an asshole. “Delete it. Let’s take another one.”

“Hmm,” Adriah contemplates. “I don’t want to delete it but I do want to take another one.”

“So let’s take another one.” Shion sticks out his lower lip, wondering if that would work on Adriah. “So I can look good too.”

Adriah laughs, locking his screen. He’s never going to delete that picture. “Shion always looks good, so I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.”

Shion recognizes that he’s been defeated. “Fine, then let’s take another one so there’s at least one good one.” Adriah leans down again, as Shion tries to position his own phone so it gets both them and the beach behind them. “Your arms are longer, can you take it?”

He does, and this time they’re both smiling for the camera. Adriah takes a few in rapid succession, so Shion doesn’t get a chance to see what they look like.

“Let’s get food,” Adriah says, when Shion is about to check.

“I think there are places if we go back the way we came,” Shion says, stowing his phone in his pocket instead. He has a sudden thought. “Have you had taiyaki before?”

Adriah doesn’t know what that is, so they walk around for about fifteen minutes before finding a stall that’s selling taiyaki.

“It’s too cute,” Adriah wails, as he’s holding the little fish shaped pastry. Despite this, he doesn’t forget to take a picture. “I can’t eat it!”

“It’s too yummy not to eat,” Shion says, gingerly blowing on his. He presses it against his mouth and decides it’s still too hot. “I think you’ll like it.”

“Shion always knows.” Adriah blows on his too. He flips it over belly side up, and blows on that before taking a tiny, tiny bite. They find a bench to sit on, because Adriah keeps stopping in the middle of the street and disrupting the flow of traffic.

Shion crumples up his wrapper, holding a hand out for Adriah’s once he’s finished. “How was it?”

“I’m so glad I got a picture!” He shows Shion. “I’m so happy Shion and I can still do things like this.”

“There’s a theory about what your taiyaki eating habit says about your personality,” Shion says, as Adriah is picking photos to post to Instagram.

“What does it say?”

“You ate from the belly first, so that means you’re friendly and popular, and people like you.”

Adriah looks up. “Is that true?”

“What— It’s _your_ personality. Belly first also can mean that you have a hard time saying no to people.”

“That part definitely is true,” Adriah agrees, as he shows Shion what pictures he’s including in the post. “How does Shion eat taiyaki?”

“Tail first,” Shion says. “But only because I’d feel bad eating the head first.”

“What does tail first mean?”

Shion looks up to see that the clouds are making way for a brighter sky. “It can mean that I’m calm and romantic, and a little clueless sometimes.”

“Clueless?” Adriah posts. Shion knows this because his phone dings in his pocket with a notification. Adriah must have tagged him in his post.

“Like if someone liked me, and I had no idea.”

“Is that true of Shion?” Adriah asks.

“No,” Shion says. He crushes the paper in his fist into a ball. “I’ve never thought so.”

“Hmm.” Shion looks over to see that Adriah is leaning forward, smiling. He stops when their faces are barely ten centimeters apart. “I think it might be true.”

Shion would reply, but he thinks he might be frozen to the bench, when Adriah leans in this close. Adriah blinks, his eyes traversing the entirety of Shion’s face, only momentarily flitting to his mouth. Shion almost closes the distance involuntarily, his lids about to slide shut. But suddenly his ringtone blares, startling both of them apart.

It’s Miya when Shion answers the call.

“How could you go to the beach without me?” Miya yells, and Shion holds his phone at a safe distance away from his ear so there isn’t any lasting damage. “Don’t you love me?”

“I love you in the context of the team, and that’s for public appearances,” Shion says. “Don’t get the wrong idea.”

“So mean,” Miya whines, even though he already knows Shion would come pick him up at two in the morning if he asked. He knows, because it’s happened, and Shion hadn’t even given him a hard time for it.

Then there’s a new voice behind Miya. “Wan-san,” Hinata yells. Shion sighs at the continued volume. “Let’s go to the beach together!”

“I’m at the beach already,” Shion says.

“Next time, let’s all go together,” Hinata says, and Shion wonders if his throat ever hurts from talking so loud all the time. “Soon!”

Adriah plucks the phone out of Shion’s hand. “Shion only wants to go to the beach with me,” he says, before Shion steals it back.

“We can all go together next time,” Shion says, to pacify them. “Maybe when it’s warm enough to actually get in the water.”

“Omi-kun can watch our stuff,” Miya says, apparently already jotting down plans. Shion can hear him and Hinata chattering away about how they can split up the carpool.

“I’m hanging up,” Shion says, once it’s clear that the two are not interested in holding an actual conversation. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He doesn’t actually know what they say back, because he hangs up before they have a chance. Adriah stands up, so Shion follows suit.

“Let’s go back to the beach,” he says, and Shion waits a few breaths before following him. Sure enough, Adriah turns, waiting for him to catch up before they continue on their way.

//

Not training for two days in a row apparently means that Shion’s legs have forgotten what it feels like to run, because he’s ready to collapse after they finish their midday sprints. By day 5 of 5 of Hell Week, Shion is pretty sure his muscles are never going to recover, no matter how many protein shakes he drinks.

“Another round,” Hinata whoops.

“I will destroy you,” Shion says, from where he is on the floor. He doesn’t move again until Miya comes over to poke him.

“Are you dead?” Miya prompts.

“No,” Shion says. “But poke me again and you will be.”

Miya pokes him again, and Shion chases him around the gym until he gives in, using Bokuto as a shield.

“Please spare my life!” Miya pushes Bokuto towards him. “Take Bokkun instead.”

“It won’t be as satisfying with Bokuto,” Shion says, lifting up the collar of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face. “He doesn’t deserve to be slowly poisoned to death.”

Bokuto looks between them. “Was that a compliment?”

It was supposed to be a very weak compliment, but their break ends before Shion can get back at Miya. At the end of practice, Shion is too tired to come up with jabs at him, so it’ll have to wait for another day. This is a disgusting amount of sweat, so Shion uses the shower quickly before changing into street clothes.

Most everyone has left by the time he comes out of the locker room, but Adriah is texting, sitting against the wall of the hallway.

“Shion,” Adriah calls. Shion has no idea how he has this much energy after Hell Week. “Could you drive me home please?”

“How did you even get here if you didn’t drive?” Shion asks, in lieu of a yes.

“I ran.” Adriah adjusts the strap of his bag. “I accidentally got up too early so I figured I would just go on a jog.”

“Isn’t that like a forty minute run?” Shion asks. It’s definitely over half an hour from his apartment, and Adriah lives a bit further. “You went on a forty minute run the morning of the last day of Hell Week?”

“It’s conditioning next week so I figured I should run as much as possible this week,” Adriah says.

“Well, I hope you’re able to walk tomorrow,” Shion says, sarcasm tingeing his tone.

They’ve driven almost halfway back when Adriah suddenly starts searching through his bag, his elbow almost knocking Shion out the window.

“Are you trying to make us crash?” Shion asks, as he avoids swerving onto a curb. “I just got this car, you know.”

“Sorry, sorry, I just remembered I wanted to go over some game data with you,” Adriah says, holding up a notebook. “I got it from Coach the other day and forgot to mention it to you.”

There’s still some time before Shion was planning on making dinner anyway. So they go to Shion’s apartment, and Adriah knocks his hand out of the way so he can unlock the door with his spare key.

“I gave you that for emergencies,” Shion scolds, as Adriah opens the door for him and playfully bows. “Don’t abuse your power.”

“I would never do that, Shion,” Adriah says seriously, but there isn’t any way he can hide the laughter in his eyes. “Don’t you trust me?”

Shion ignores the last bit, and rearranges the table so there’s room for both of them around it. He makes tea. As they’re going over the data, he thinks about what he’s going to do about following up on Meian’s block, for those rotations. Maybe it would help if he watched Meian all the time like he did Adriah, but Shion is pretty sure he’s going to get sick of Meian’s face way faster than he does with Adriah’s. He takes a sip of his tea, to break his concentration. They haven’t had the time to do this for a few months now, and the familiarity of it all is sweet and palpable in the way Adriah leans over to point out something that Shion missed.

Adriah is poring over the notebook when Shion says, “Didn’t you use to go to a language teacher?”

“For the first year I was in Japan,” Adriah says. “Then I stopped.”

“Why?”

Adriah leans back on his palms. “Because it was crazy busy for me trying to balance that and getting used to the team and also just living in this country. He was a good teacher, though. I felt like I got a grasp of things after a year and he gave me a lot of advice when I told him I was thinking about stopping. And he said I could call him if I ever wanted to start lessons again.”

Shion barely remembers his English lessons from when he was still in school, so he guesses that in this aspect, Adriah has long surpassed him. “What kind of advice?”

“Oh, like slang I might hear when talking to guys in their 20s, the mobile translator apps that work best, if I wanted to learn faster I should date. Stuff like that.”

Shion pulls the notebook over to him, so he has something to do with his hands. “That sounds like good advice.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see that Adriah is tilting his head to the side, his bangs spilling over his forehead. “I don’t know how effective it was, though.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I think I learned more Japanese by talking to Shion than I did dating.”

Shion turns a page so hard that there’s a small rip formed at the top of the paper. “Well,” he says, willing his voice to stay even. “Maybe you didn’t date enough.”

“No, I don’t think that’s it.”

“Then it’s probably because we talk about volleyball, and that’s something you care about.”

“We talk about other things too, don’t we?” Adriah asks. “Can we?” He shifts his weight to one palm, picking his other hand up and putting it under the notebook to flip it shut.

They do talk about other things, but it’s always easiest to turn the conversation back to volleyball, always volleyball. It was the only way Shion knew how to keep Adriah a certain distance away, holding him out at arm’s length. That was what he always thought was the right thing to do. He’s never even considered that there were other options.

“Of course we can,” he says anyway. If he takes longer to reply then Adriah will know something is wrong. “What do you want to talk about?”

Adriah reaches over, grazing his fingers just above Shion’s jaw, so cursory that Shion isn’t sure if it actually happened. He knows he should shy away, but the way Adriah is looking at him now has him rooted to where he is. He’s always had that effect on Shion. Adriah’s hand treads down his neck, coming to a stop where Shion knows he can feel his pulse. The edge of his thumb etches too affectionate of a touch upon him.

He doesn’t see Adriah leaning to kiss him, but he instinctively angles his chin upwards anyway, so he can catch Adriah’s mouth before he’s ready. The small, surprised noise in Adriah’s throat is more than rewarding enough. Adriah is so responsive when Shion presses in deeper, the way he’s always thought about kissing Adriah but never considered that he’d one day execute the theory.

It’s not like anything he’s accounted for in his theory. It’s not like he’s run simulations repeatedly. It was something he thought about fleetingly when Adriah caught his eye and for one stifling second Shion couldn’t think about anything else. When they took the set point and his eyes met Adriah’s from across the huddle. When Adriah reached over to fix the collar of his jacket when they were at a red light, Shion made sure he was still looking at the road when he thanked him. Not—

All at once, Shion comes to his senses, pulling away until his back hits the couch. He hasn’t moved far, but his heart is thumping like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, at the precipice of opportunity.

He’s breathing hard. Adriah’s mouth is slightly open as he looks at where Shion is now, as Shion says, “That’s not funny.”

Adriah asks, “Why would it be funny?”

“Stop— stop fucking with me, Adriah, or I’m actually going to get mad at you.”

“Shion is mad at me?”

Shion brings his fingers to his mouth, and feels how much his hands shake. Adriah’s hands hadn’t been shaking at all. “No, I’m not mad at you.” He pushes himself up, so he can sit on the couch. “Yet.”

Adriah comes over to sit next to him. “Does Shion not want to kiss me?”

“Stop that.”

Adriah seems to not know how to respond to this, so they spend the next few minutes in silence, Shion waiting for his breathing to even out. When he thinks he’s ready to glance over at him, he sees that Adriah is facing down towards his knees, his hair covering his face. But it doesn’t matter. Shion already knows what’s welling up, no matter how much he’s trying to fight it.

“I’m sad,” Adriah starts. “That Shion does not feel about me the way I feel about him.”

“Who on earth taught you to say that?”

Adriah does look at him again, then. “You did, Shion.”

Shion doesn’t know why he asked that. It’s not like he could forget, teaching Adriah what to say when breaking up with someone, some three years ago. When Adriah was trying to break it off with a girl he’d been seeing and Shion had taught him a list of things to say. I don’t think I can be as good of a partner as you deserve. You deserve someone who can be there for you. I don’t think we feel the same about each other. I don’t think we should be together anymore.

Shion had never thought he’d be on the receiving end of those words. Before he can overthink it, he asks, “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying, I love Shion.”

“Is that a joke?”

“Why won’t you take me seriously?” Adriah raises his voice, for the first time at Shion when they’re not on the court. He’s never raised his voice at Shion like this before, not ever. Shion barely recognizes the sound at first, echoing much less than expected in the otherwise quiet of Shion’s apartment.

He’s seen Adriah sad and angry before, of course. After poor performances, when he was forced to switch out and watch the rest of the match from the bench. When he got a call from his mother that his dog didn’t make it through his surgery. That one time Bokuto tripped over their bags and accidentally crushed Adriah’s lucky charm, some weird figure of a rabbit that he’s had since before coming to Japan.

This isn't like any of those times. Shion has never seen him make this face before, and he doesn’t know if there is anything he can say that will suffice as an apology. So he does the only thing he can think of doing: he kisses him again, feeling Adriah’s wet cheeks against his own and the curl of his tongue. The way his mouth opens under Shion’s touch and the softness that Shion feels making its home inside of him.

When Adriah lets them break apart, Shion rests their foreheads against each other, close enough to see each individual lash framing his eyes. Adriah murmurs, “Shion really is so clueless,” and it makes Shion laugh, deep within his chest, warmth seeping through until they’re drowning in it.

He thinks distantly that his heart must be a monster. All this, and it wants more.

//

Adriah’s hands finally do shake when he’s pulling Shion’s shirt over his head, his fingers fumbling with the button of Shion’s jeans. Shion gets ahold of his wrist as he struggles and says, “We don’t have to do this.”

“But I want to,” Adriah says. He flicks his bangs out of his eyes. “Can you help me, please?”

He learns quickly exactly how Shion wants to be touched, when Shion is underneath him on the floor of Shion’s apartment. The locker room at the end of the day. The sheets of Adriah’s enormous, custom sized bed. They always kiss like they have all the time in the world, because when he’s with Adriah that’s what Shion feels like. Like he could be falling in love with Adriah for the first time again. The best, most incredible feeling. The moment he feels like the Earth will stop its revolution around the sun, but it doesn’t. It won’t.

They’re making out more rushed than usual. Sakusa lost in janken the other day and is now hosting everyone for drinks; he’s such a stickler about punctuality. The last time Meian was late, Sakusa made him wait outside for fifteen minutes in the rain before Miya convinced him to let him in.

So they can’t be late. Shion slides his hands down Adriah’s chest, as Adriah mouths at his neck, tongue hot on his skin. When he rucks up Adriah’s shirt, his hands slipping underneath, Adriah inhales sharply.

Shion immediately stops. “What’s wrong?” he asks, smoothing over the tiny creases in the fabric on Adriah’s back.

“Sorry, sorry.” Adriah pushes his face against Shion’s neck, pulling him closer so Shion is completely in his lap. “Nothing’s wrong. I just— is it okay if we stop?”

Shion rests his elbow on Adriah’s shoulder, cradling the back of his head. “Of course that’s okay.” Adriah doesn’t say anything more, so Shion runs his fingers through his hair, wondering how long it would take to count each individual strand. Probably a really fucking long time. Probably as long as it would take for him to learn English, or even longer. He doesn’t know why Adriah gets like this sometimes, but he tries to say, “Is there anything I can do?”

“I…” Adriah swallows then; Shion can feel it. “I’ve just never been with someone who I love so much like I love you. I want to tell you how much I love you but I don’t know how.”

Shion doesn’t think anything he has learned in school, or in volleyball, or in any other aspect of his life, has ever prepared him to be told something like that. It’s not like there was an optional class he could have taken in university called, _Adriah Tomas 101_ , or _How To Tell Him You Love Him, When I Love You Doesn’t Feel Like Enough_.

Because it really doesn’t feel like enough. He thinks he understands what Adriah is saying. Nothing feels like enough, but somehow something has to be. When they’re on Shion’s balcony on clear nights looking up at the infinite. When Shion counts how many times he catches himself looking for where Adriah is in the room, for him to be right next to him. When Shion lies awake in the middle of the night sometimes because every moment he doesn’t spend conscious with Adriah feels like a waste. The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it Adriah? I want to wake up to see your face every morning. I love you today, more than I did yesterday. I’m right here. Could you please stay with me for a while?

Adriah leans back a little, his expression concentrated like he’s thinking. He picks up Shion’s hand, the one that’s not in his hair, and guides it to the left side of his chest. He says, “This is you.”

“Me?” Shion is taken aback. “But that’s where your heart is supposed to go.”

Adriah blinks at him. “That’s what I said.”

There cannot possibly be an accepted method of response to something like this. Adriah is already so unorthodox that Shion doesn’t know what to do with him most of the time. Not that he minds, but Adriah is looking at him so open and vulnerable, and Shion wants to know how he can be so brave.

He hugs Adriah as hard as he possibly can, tightening both his arms and legs around him. He asks, “Is that enough?”

“No,” Adriah says, muffled from where he’s squished against Shion.

“I don’t think I can physically hug you harder.”

Adriah puffs a laugh, his breath ghosting over Shion’s neck. He says, “Then just hug me,” his lips already finding Shion’s.

Shion takes his time with him, so they have to rush to make it to Sakusa’s on time. They split a cab, arriving with forty-five seconds to spare.

“You made it!” Miya says, shooing them in before Sakusa can say anything. “Pay up, Bokkun.”

Bokuto reluctantly hands over a folded bill. “I really thought I had that one.”

“You two bet money on us?” Shion asks, incredulous.

“I tried to stop them,” Hinata tells him.

“No, you did not,” Sakusa accuses. “You were encouraging this kind of behavior.”

Meian hands Shion a drink, so he tunes out the rest of their conversation. He must’ve not had enough for dinner, because he starts to get dangerously light headed halfway through his fifth. He vaguely recollects beating an equally inebriated Miya in an arm wrestling match, only to lose spectacularly to Hinata in the next round. He also vaguely recollects Adriah saying, _I can take him home_ , and the sensation of being lifted onto someone’s back.

When he opens his eyes, he’s in Adriah’s apartment again, Adriah patiently trying to unbutton his shirt while Shion wriggles around. He must have already managed to get off Shion’s pants.

“You take such good care of me,” he slurs, pressing his mouth to Adriah’s.

Adriah kisses him back, but he’s undoing the buttons at the same time. “I know, I really do.”

“Are you coming to bed?” he asks, rolling over on his stomach before Adriah can stop him. He tries to flutter his lashes seductively, but Adriah almost doubles over at the sight.

“I am,” Adriah says, wiping a tear from his eye. “But I think you need to drink this water first.” He gives Shion a tall glass, which Shion somewhat unwillingly drinks. “I’m leaving some painkillers here in case you need them.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Shion asks, trying to push himself up on his elbows and failing to do so. “Isn’t this your apartment?”

Adriah kneels down next to him, gently rearranging him so he’s on his side. “I’m going to take a shower,” he says. “Will you be okay without me for a few minutes?”

Shion meets his eyes. “I’m not sure,” he says seriously. “But I will do my best.”

Doing his best apparently means falling asleep immediately, because the next thing Shion remembers is waking up in a pitch black room, his head pounding. He groans internally, careful not to move too much as he searches blindly for a phone, or a clock, or anything that can tell him the time.

The too-bright screen of his phone reads _03:24_ , which means he’s only been asleep for a few hours. He reaches over, shoving two of the pills Adriah left for him into his mouth and gulping it down with water. That makes him feel sick, but hopefully he won’t regret it in the morning.

He turns his head. His phone screen is still on, which means that it faintly illuminates the outline of Adriah’s sleeping figure, turned away for him. Shion reaches out, just barely skimming his nape. He whispers, “I really love you, you know,” because there’s no way Adriah can hear him right now, and he needs the practice.

Adriah shifts, turning so he’s facing Shion. The light from the screen reflects off of his irises, and Shion thinks about how much time he spent trying to figure out how to ask for more, and self-sabotaging himself instead. Somehow the deliberation all feels worth it when they’re aligned this way, and not like a waste.

“I know,” he whispers back. Shion’s head is still hurting up a storm, but the throbbing between his ears echoes the ancillary pressure imposed upon him by the weight of his hand on the cusp of Adriah’s smile. Even half in the dark through the beginnings of a hangover, he’s still the best thing Shion has ever seen.

Adriah moves closer, gently cupping the back of his head to keep him steady, as he folds Shion into himself. Whatever Shion had been struggling with resumes its full collision. The first time, the last time, the next time — these didn’t have to be disconnected, if Shion could search and find what makes him want to face forward, here and now.

//

_Everything from now on, is for forever._

**Author's Note:**

> extra:  
>  _adriah_ (posts on finsta a picture of shion in the hoodie of unknown origin) shion is so cute wearing my hoodie!!!  
>  _shion_ (throws a volleyball at him with the fury of one thousand suns) STOP LEAVING YOUR SHIT IN MY CAR  
>  _adriah_ :(  
>  _shion_ …you can put them in my closet instead 
> 
> (the [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jo71pQxvAvc) adriah was singing in the car)


End file.
